Initiation by Fire

Initiation by Fire

Postby Glenn » Fri May 17, 2013 8:58 am

There were certain perks to having seniority. In Myrken, seniority meant not dying. Harder than it sounded, especially for a Constable. Lentham'd managed it. Came close. Lost partners. Lost himself. But here he was. Seniority meant you could pass the buck sometimes. Seniority was one of the few things that made it worth it. That and free drinks now and again. This was Myrken. Take what you can get.

Detective Constable Edington,

Fire the other night. Checking out some leads. Witnesses said boy named Cherny seen. Either helped or started it. Not sure which. Works at the mill. Seen in the Dagger a lot. Good kid. Mute. See what you can find out.

Detective Constable Kurt Lentham

The name was a scribble. The rest of the letters were small and not exactly neat but perfectly legible.
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Re: Initiation by Fire

Postby Katie » Tue May 21, 2013 5:37 am

By the time he actually opened the letter, he was alone in his rented room at the ‘Dagger. He had tried to read it over supper, which he ended up having none, due to the fact that some girl was… not herself. His evening ended with the boy by name of Elliot Brown in his arms while he taxed his mind as to whether it was legal in Myrkenwood to arrest someone of magical capability. There had to be a way.

He was weary, having been sober for days now (his training as a street constable allowed little time for his fire water), and when he opened the missive, his eyes widened, squinted and then the hair above his eyes scurried above his brows.

“Detective?” he asked, looking over the paper and across the room. “But I’m not a detective.”

It was delegation. Scutt work. Grunt work. Seniority, the thing he had not yet earned, ruled him. The thing about these kinds of tasks were that he would be fired if he failed, promoted if he succeeded. It was presented as if he had a choice. Tomias was not a detective, but this Lentham forced him away from his comfortable street duties.

Even worst, he didn’t know this “Cherney.” It was yet another child, something this town seemed to be plagued and infested with. He needed someone who would know children. He needed…

“A know-it-all.”

He wrote quickly, his handwriting a river of scribbles but legible enough:

Mes, Gloria,

I wondor if you would be willing to return a faver. I helped you bury some papers. Would you help me and tell me if you know a child by name of Cherney? I would need to talk to him. I would appresheate your asistance with this constible matter.

She would ask something of him. And he would give it to the portly one, because if Gloria liked to do anything, it was talk.
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Re: Initiation by Fire

Postby Rance » Tue May 21, 2013 6:58 am

A know-it-all.

She was no information broker; she was no gossiping girl. Perhaps one day, when her rhetoric became stronger and her thoughts were borne through finer Standard, she would be both -- for what was the real difference? Yet this letter she received over her broth and bread, when she was halfway through the third chapter of A Proper Control of the Language, caught her attention mostly for a single word:


She paused the young messenger and gave him a tarnished coin. She wrote quickly enough, not even pausing to wipe the crumbs from her dry lips. The seamstress peered over her shattered nose, her breath coming out in thoughtful wheezes as she took from her satchel a sliver of charcoal and constructed her response on the parchment's blank side.

As a loyal subject of Myrken Wood I feel it is nesessary to explane to you the importants of a formal salutation and signature on your letter usually set an inch below the final body line and constituting by of yours truly, tomias or with trust, tomias so that in the future i do not think you are asking ransem as a man in black clothes i am loaf to know might do, thank Nameless for your messenger informing me of the senter

but if this is a CONSTABLE matter then i would dane to give you what i know on your word that for what you might need from master CHERNY would be useful, he is an attendant at Menna Olwak's dayschool and a millworker though i do not suggest going to him there--

The messenger drummed his fingers with impatience against the bar.

--but he is also my dearest friend and family not of blood so if i am to hear word of your poor treatment i will likely knock your rough dairy face into next week, that would not be a CONSTABLE matter but simply one of popour primp proprietie as he means quite the world to me

i give you this trust not for BURNING the papers (not bury), but also for your assistents two nights past in caring for my friend Elliot Brown and being diplomatique in regards to Noura, thank you or as we say in Jernoah:
[A series of foreign letters illegible to readers of Standard]

for offisheal business i should inspire you to accompany your letters with an offisheal wax seal of the Constipat constangComstanpulary so no questions can ever be raised of your intent, also with enough paid to the messenger that your inquiries should not lighten my pocket, i am a mere seamstress and cannot often afford the charity of returned postige but this once i will forgive

shoult i see him i will direct him to you at the meetinghouse but you may also be on the lookout for him the Broken Dagger taking victules after his days work or after his school, also if you are to see him before i please inform him you sought out my guidance he will be more comfortable to speak to you knowing i have offered you information on his warebouts

yours sincerely,
gloria wynsee
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Re: Initiation by Fire

Postby Katie » Wed May 22, 2013 1:40 am

The letter was returned with a messenger who lacked the pleasant demeanor he had before. The envelop was shoved into Tomias’ hand, and he paid the man without a word. That didn’t take long, he realized, as he opened the letter.

It was hard to be angry with Mes Wynsea. If she was anything, it was reliable. She corrected his lack of salutation – he knew such rules, but in his haste, hadn’t bothered to include it – as well as his lack of wax seal and pre-payment. She also provided him with the information he asked for, and quite willingly, so as long as he gave her credit. These facts together made the man laugh quietly, his smile eagerly spreading across his lips and he shook his head. He folded it and decided against sending her a thank-you note, something she would surely correct him for later.

The Broken Dagger would be the best luck to find the Cherny boy, but there was something else he would do first. He left his room, the inn and spoke to enough people to find the burning house. Well, burnt. Charred and vacant, the house may have been a home of memories, of comfort, or even of fear and loneliness, but now it was nothing but charred, blackened rubble.

His green eyes looked upon the ashes and whatever humored smile had been there had vanished.

String her to the pyre.

No! No, I DIDN’T!

It's a good day to burn a witch, don't you think, Tom?

He shook his head, the phantom smell of burning flesh accosting his nostrils. There, he took a breath, a deep, cleansing one, to remove the ghosts from his nose. His breathing quickened but he forced himself forward. He stepped towards the ashes, his fingers dipping into them and smelling them. It smelled natural, of wood and earth, and not the sickening sweet smell a spell left behind. He rubbed his fingers together, the ashes dry and not oily.

He lost track of time as he walked around the house, stepping over larger pieces and lifting others. He was a street constable, but the detective side seemed to come without training. He investigated pieces, looking for cause and effect, for reason.

He looked back towards the hill towards the Dagger. He needed to find the Cherny boy. He only hoped the seamstress’s information was as good as the paper she wrote it on.
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Re: Initiation by Fire

Postby Katie » Tue Jun 04, 2013 1:23 pm

Days had passed and there was no word from Tomias. It had begun to look as if the man had flaked on his assignment; perhaps he wasn't detective material after all. There was talk that the man had a drinking problem; a closer investigation would bring up behavioral problems with the gentleman. However, talk was what it was; there were whisperings that the boy, Cherny, was investigated by the constables. More talk brought up that he was under scrutiny for stealing, even one very elaborate story about a stabbing, but these were tales that the constabulary were not unfamiliar.

Right when it was time to dismiss Tomias, a letter had arrived for Lentham.

Constable Lentham,

I was able to meet with the boy, Cherny, you had mentuned. Smart lad, if timid, and we had a nice talk. Unfortuneately, it turned up nothing. He knew nothing but roomors; I would've gotton more out of the town gossip. I wondered how his name past across your desk and worry if someone slipped the name to the constabully with purpuss. That is for another day I think.

I've decided to further infest--investigate the remains of the house. I think it may be best to consider who owned it. Do we have access to the deed? I'd hate to bother the govnor with the matter if there's a public record I'm not familar with.

My next step is to speak with some of the neighbors. From my first investigation, it appears the burning was not an axcident. I'm to return over the next few days and see what a deeper investigation might bring.

I will keep you posted.

~ Constable Tomias Eddington.

He neglected to include in his missive that he actually asked the same Cherny boy to join him. He was using him, of course; the boy was well-known, perhaps even well-liked, and he was small and able to get into places he could not. His presence would force Tomias' flashbacks to behave and prevent his episodes. Yes, he liked the boy. And he liked his job more, and would have preferred to keep both his position and the possibility of an informant.
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Re: Initiation by Fire

Postby Lent » Tue Jun 11, 2013 7:22 am

Flaking. Flaking was a mutual appreciation society. Lots of those in Myrken. Lot of them involved drinking. Lot of drinking. Nice people. A few were angry, nasty drunks. Didn't last long, them. Went through windows. Word for that. De-Fen something. Not Defense of the windows. Defense of good taste and fidelity maybe. No more fidelity than between those in their cups.

So perhaps Tomias was starting to wonder if he wasn't being flaked on too. Bit of wondering made the world go round. Bit of drink made it slosh about. Got let dizzy that way. Eventually, a reply would come.


Took me a bit of time to dig things up. Then I went around in circles. Then I dug some more. Then I slept. Then I did some other stuff. End of the day, I needed another day. End of that day, I needed a third. Lose count after that. No need to worry though. Some information came back. The boy at the scene was identified as a Cherny. That's one of the few things we got from the witnesses at the time. Said he was a loud mouth, is all. Iffin I'd known that from the get go, I'd have been more suspicious too. Nice talk you had, I bet. Right.

Public record is more tricky. House ended up back in the Government's hands. Heard rumblings about the Governor's lady having some plans for it. Makes no sense though. Nice enough house. Belonged to a Councilor. If she wanted it for something, there'd be no reason to burn down and start over. Matter of his daughter comes to mind, though. Dispossessed after he died. Met her once. She was a bard. Might make sense to see if she was poking around town. Might have been spite since it didn't end up with her. As for who had it between the dead Councilor and the Government, not sure. Wasn't time for any legal documentation to be fully worked out. The house was purchased the same day it burned down, seems. no one knows who sold it or to who.

Good luck with all that,
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